


Art

by romanticalgirl



Series: Revisionist History [10]
Category: Dawson's Creek
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 22:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unseen scenes from season two</p><p>Episode: High Risk Behavior</p>
            </blockquote>





	Art

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 1/11/01

“So,” Pacey sat on the picnic table, glancing down at Joey’s annoyed face. “I hear Pratfall McPhee ruined your nekkid art picture.”

“Trust you to put a classy spin on my tragedy, Pacey.”

“I also hear he offered to pose for you, and you turned him down,” he kept talking, ignoring her sputtered response. “Which I can totally understand. I mean, at this blossoming point of your relationship, you’re supposed to spend the evening wondering what’s under his clothes, not actually staring at it.”

“You are the most disgusting creature.”

“So I offer an alternative solution.”

“I’ve ever...what?”

“Well, I was supposed to have a date with Andie tonight, but there’s some homework trauma that has postponed it until tomorrow night, at no small expense to me I might add, so, since I’m free and you’re free...”

“You want to model for me?” Her eyebrows shot up.

“Sure. Why not?”

“Because, Pacey, the class is on form and muscle. Not,” she poked him in the stomach. “Adolescent boys who have yet to outgrow their baby-fat stage.”

“Your high opinion of my manly physique aside, Potter, I’m all you got. Besides, there’s no down side here. You get your sketch and, since we both hate each other, there’s no chance of desire rearing its ugly head. No pun intended.”

“You’re a pig.”

“Your choice.” He slid off the table and started to walk away.

“What’s in it for you?”

He turned around at her words, intrigued by her tone. “What?”

“As touching as this altruism is, I’m skeptical. What’s in it for you?”

“You can’t believe I just want to help you out?”

“Honestly?” She gave him an appraising look. “No.”

Pacey sighed and walked back to the table, sitting down next to Joey. She gave him a dirty look and scooted over, putting more room between them. “They pay you.”

“What? Who?”

“The colleges. They pay you to model. But you have to be able to do it, and I’m not sure I can.”

“Mr. Happy gets in the way?”

“No,” he blushed, the color deepening as he realized he was blushing. “It’s just...as much as I’m a show-off, I don’t know that I can handle people looking at me...you know, bare-assed. But I figure if I can survive your hostile, disapproving glare, I can handle anything.”

“And the money? What’s it for?”

“Same thing I embarrassed myself at the Miss Windjammer debacle for. I want out. Out of my house, out of Capeside.”

Joey thought it over for a second. “No.”

“Why not, Potter?”

“You have a girlfriend! How am I supposed to face Andie afterwards? How am I supposed to act like I haven’t seen more of her boyfriend than she has?” Joey bit her lower lip, her pencil moving abstractly over her sketchpad.

“You’d be thinking the same thing about her brother, Jo.” Pacey shrugged and got up. “See ya.”

He was almost across the courtyard when she called his name. Turning to face her again, He raised an eyebrow in response. “It’s just art, right?”

“Between you and me, Potter? What the hell else could it be?”

“My house. Seven o’clock.”

He grinned and nodded. “Thanks, Jo.”

“Don’t mention it. Really. Ever.”

“Right. And Jo?”

“Yeah?”

“You’d better get a bigger sketch pad.”

 

~**~  
Pacey looked around the room, rocking back on his heels. The robe he was wearing covered him to his mid-calf and itched in too many places. He opened the door enough to see Joey setting up her easel and cleared his throat. “Can I come out now?”

“No.”

“Why not? The rest of the household is gone, right?”

Joey sighed and sat on the stool facing the couch. “Fine. Come out. But just...just shut up, okay? Models have to be silent. And not move.”

Pacey stood by the edge of the couch and looked at it, then looked over his shoulder at Joey. “So, uh, what next?”

“Surely this has been the starting point for some plot-deprived porno film you’ve watched, Pacey.”

“I didn’t realize we were going down that path, Joey.” Pacey glared at her and fiddled with the ties of his robe. “In that case, why don’t you slip off your clothes and bend over that stool, huh?”

“You can leave. We don’t have to do this.”

Pacey sighed. “Right. Sorry.” He loosened the knot that held the robe closed. “So, what? Do you want me to sit? Lie? Pose some certain way?”

“Just...just lie down, I guess.”

“Should I keep this on for a while?” He finally had the knot untied but still held the robe together. “Or should I take it off.”

“Well, you’re supposed to be nude. And, as much as I’m sure you think I’ve managed to memorize all your curves and whatever you pass off as muscles, I think I might better capture that essence of you if you actually took the robe off.”

“Right.” He dropped the ties that held the robe together and grabbed the edges. “So. Here I go. Getting naked.” He looked at her quickly, making sure she wasn’t looking and dropped the robe, hurrying to sit on the edge of the couch. “Now. Naked. What now?”

Joey stared at the blank paper in front of her and chewed her lower lip, trying to remind herself that she’d seen Pacey naked several times. Of course, he’d been about six the last time and a lot had happened in ten years. As she looked up, he lay out on the couch, affecting some sort of pose. Swallowing hard, she turned her gaze back to the paper. A hell of a lot had happened.

“Just...just lie there. And don’t say anything.” She picked up a pencil randomly and glanced up quickly. Pacey was lying back, one knee up slightly. “Turn to your left a little, okay?”

He shifted as she asked and propped himself up on his elbow. “You like art? I mean drawing? Really like it?”

She nodded, not focusing on him so much as specific parts of him. “Yeah. When I draw, it’s like there’s nothing holding me back, you know? Well, except my own fears.”

“I don’t have anything like that.”

“Tilt your head down a little.” She watched him look toward the ground. “No. Keep looking at me.” She nodded when he got the angle she wanted. “What do you mean?”

He started to shrug, stopping himself when he remembered he was supposed to be still. “I mean that I don’t have anything where it’s all about me, just me, you know?”

“I know. We, as much as I despise admitting it, have a lot in common.” Joey moved her pencil over the paper, caressing it with the charcoal tip. “Except on opposite sides of the law. Or, in the case of Miss Jacobs, on the same side.”

“Yeah, well...” He blushed. “Let’s not talk about that, okay?”

“I’m sorry if I wasn’t there for you during all that.”

“You were though,” he managed a smile in her general direction. “You reminded me that, even in Capeside, everything manages to blow over eventually.”

“Could you extend your arm a little? There.” She nodded. “Yup. Even the blackest of sheep end up looking gray when the next thing comes along. The trick is to make sure you’re not the next thing.” She leaned back and surveyed what she’d done. “You know, take things slow. That sort of thing.”

“Ah. Why do I have a sneaky suspicion that this conversation is headed somewhere very deliberate?”

“Are you going to try to have sex with Andie tomorrow night?”

Pacey laughed softly. “Jo, I know that you haven’t exactly done more than dip your toes into that particular pool, but I can assure you that one does not try and have sex. One either has sex or one doesn’t.”

“You know what I’m asking.”

“I do. What I can’t quite figure out is why you care.”

“I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

“I’m not going to get hurt.”

“Quit moving your leg.” She pointed at his leg, which he’d been jiggling nervously. “You never think you’re going to get hurt. But, inevitably you do.”

“Are we talking the royal ‘you’ or is this directed at me in particular?”

“You got hurt the first time.”

“My first time was with a woman twenty years my senior who also happened to be my English teacher. There were extenuating circumstances. Andie’s just another sophomore like me.”

“You don’t always see the extenuating circumstances.”

“Ah, this is the royal ‘you’ then. This is the ‘you’ that refers to you and Dawson.” He sighed, trying to relieve the ache in his neck without moving. “This is about you and he not being the perfect couple that you expected. This is about the faults that didn’t bother you as a friend biting you in the ass when you’re a couple. Am I right?”

“No. It’s about my reckless, dare I say it, friend Pacey, who has this tendency to jump into things before he’s ready because he thinks it’s the only way that people will care about him or pay attention to him or, god forbid, love him.”

The room went silent, Pacey’s still form freezing. Joey’s hand stopped moving, poised over the paper. Finally he spoke. “Are you almost done?”

She shook her head. “No. Not really.”

“Well, from what I understand, in the college classes, the models aren’t allowed to speak. So I’m just going to practice that right now, okay?” He refused to look at her. “You just let me know when you’re done.”

“I’m sorry, Pacey. I didn’t mean to say...I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

He didn’t respond, just kept staring at the wall behind her. She sighed and started drawing again. Nude, he was no longer the Pacey she’d grown up with. Nude, he was someone different. Just lines and muscles and flesh and shadow. It was easy to disassociate the personality from the body as he remained silent, except for those blue eyes that would occasionally scorch her skin when he looked at her.

“Is Miss Jacobs the only person you’ve ever had sex with?” He didn’t answer her and she set the pencil down. “I’m scared of it.”

Silence filled the room for several long minutes until she picked up her pencil once more. He finally spoke, barely heard over the slight scratch of charcoal. “Of what?”

“Sex.” She didn’t look at him, just kept drawing. “You hear all these horror stories, you know? And then you read all these romance novels that are the complete opposite. I mean, in the bathroom, girls always talk about how it hurts or they bleed or the damn oar was poking them in the back or how it was over in seconds and they didn’t feel anything. But in the novels, it’s always roses and candlelight, his hands framing her face as he kisses her and tells her that she’s the only one, that he hasn’t had another woman since the day he fell in love with her. And then there’s this beautiful lovemaking scene full of euphemisms and mutual orgasms. And I know that can’t be reality.”

“It’s different for a guy.”

“How?”

“We don’t have this burden of virginity. I mean, yeah, it feels like some sort of collar around our neck until we lose it, but it doesn’t have the same significance as a woman’s. It’s a double standard, and it pretty much sucks, but that’s the way it is.” He still wouldn’t look at her. “Besides, for a guy, losing his virginity is pretty much over with one simple thrust.”

“I understand it’s the same for a girl.”

“Yeah, but there’s stuff...involved. Most guys don’t give a damn if they’re in love or lust or just with someone drunk enough. Girls...girls tend to care.” Pacey swallowed and tried to look at anything but her. “You care.”

“Yeah.” Joey nodded, still drawing, staring more closely at the whole, rather than the specific parts. “Was your first time good?”

“You saw the tape,” he reminded her dryly.

“Before you knew that Dawson had taped you for all posterity... Was it good?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, his voice thick with memory. “I mean, she knew what she was doing, you know? And even though I was untrained and unsure and flying completely on ego, I cared about her so much. And I wanted it to be good.”

“Did it last more than a few seconds?”

“I refer you back to the taped evidence.”

“I’m not trying to embarrass you.” She used her thumb to smooth out some of the rougher lines. “I just wonder what it was like.”

“It was somewhere between the stories and the bathroom reality.” He shifted slightly. “I imagine it was better because she was experienced, but it felt...” he broke off, laughing softly. “It felt good.”

“Good?” Joey stopped drawing, turning her attention fully to Pacey.

“Yeah.” He leaned back a bit. “As you can imagine, my previous sexual experiences were more of the Penthouse Letters variety than anything with Fabio on the cover. And, while I didn’t expect anything that was going to involve or require special equipment, I can also say I didn’t expect to feel like I felt.” He noticed Joey’s look, sort of intrigued and entranced. “I felt alive, you know? Like I’d done something right? Managed to do the right thing, make someone else feel special, magical. God, I think I whispered the stupidest things to her while I was inside her.” He broke off, blushing again.

Joey’s gaze was locked on his eyes as he spoke, floored by the depth of emotion in them. She’d seen him go from depressed to elated in just mere minutes, and the transformation amazed her. Her pencil seemed to fly over the page, trying to capture his expression, his soul “What did you say?”

“I told her she was beautiful, because she was. And I told her that she felt to good surrounding me. I told her that I wanted to be so deep inside her that I’d never find my way out.” He swallowed as Joey put down her charcoal, slid off her stool and walked toward him, sitting at the edge of the couch, her hand resting on his thigh. “I told her that she felt like velvet, stroking me.” He lowered his leg slightly, licking his lips as Joey’s hand moved with him, his erection no longer hidden. “I told her that I loved being inside her.”

Her eyes held his as her hand moved once more, reaching out to stroke the hard flesh of his cock. Her fingers shook as she touched him, and she couldn’t hold back the suprised giggle that escaped her as it moved. “Do you think I could ever inspire someone to say those things to me?”

He nodded, watching her hand as it moved slowly and tentatively. “Yeah.”

“Me? The Ice Queen of Capeside?”

He reached down and stilled her hand, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “Joey?”

Her eyes were wide when they met his, filled with something curious and wonderful. “You feel like velvet, Pacey.”

“Why...why don’t you show me your drawing? And then I really think that I should do my very best to get out of here before this descends into something out of control and out of hand.”

“I never thought I could like touching you.”

“Joey.” He was begging her, moving to sit up. He reached for the robe and pulled it over him, hiding his nakedness, his erection, his desire. “Show me the picture?”

She nodded, getting to her feet, struggling to find her head. She held onto her stool for a moment, staring at the picture in front of her. She’d captured him somehow. Something that was uniquely Pacey managed to work its way into the drawing, work its way into the lines and shadows. She held the pad out to him, not watching him now.

He could sense the unease and embarrassment sneaking into the room around them as he took the sketchbook from her hand. It looked like him, but didn’t. Perhaps it looked like him as she saw him. Funny, he’d never have thought she saw him like that.

“You’re quite an artist, Joey Potter.”

“Yeah?” She looked up at him, wrapped up in the robe as much as he could be. “Because I managed to make Pacey Witter look good?”

“A miracle in and of itself,” he agreed. “I’m going to get dressed. You want...you want to go out for coffee?”

“And pretend this awkward moment never happened?”

“What moment?” He smiled at her and lifted her chin, bringing her gaze up to his. The urge to kiss her was just shy of overwhelming, only the tentative reminders of their last physical encounter stopping him. “We’d better watch out, Jo. If we’re not careful, we might end up as friends.”

“It’ll never happen.” She pulled out of his grasp and nodded toward the room where he’d left his clothes. “Now, go put on something less comfortable.” As he turned, she slapped his ass. “And then you can buy me coffee.”


End file.
